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I am not sure what to call this post. Its been a hard day and I know what it feels like to lose a brother. Today has been hard losing a friend and a member of the Piaroo’s Wish Helping the Homeless and Vulnerable in Reading. It was heart-breaking to see layna this evening I’m so glad Natalie was with me I do not think I could of seen her on her own. Some family is not the blood in your veins, its about how you interact with people, spend time with them and how you love them.

Helping the homeless is not just something you do its a passion, its a calling for me and it is something I feel I need to do this. Not just because I was homeless or because I am a Christian. It is hard to describe the amazing feeling and fulfilment and bursting with love. Today was kinda that type of day but with sadness in my heart. I know it is a huge struggle for me to not be affected by someone’s death. When I started Piaroo’s Wish, people would say I should not be personally involves but I was like I am already involved because I have been there on the streets.

We make memories and we share hugs, conversations, take pictures and befriend and just listen to our guys. We do food parcels, move people and help them when they find somewhere to live. We laugh, joke, share their moments of delight to sharing their moments of dread. helping them to see that they deserve a good life and happiness is very hard but try everyday to make a difference and sometimes it feels like a up hill struugle but I know its worth it because we see the difference when they are ready to help themselves. The gratitude for sometimes just stopping and saying Hi are you Okay? Do you need anything.  Sometimes that will make the difference between life and DEATH.

Losing a family member is never going to be easy for anyone, but we stick together amd look out and care for those in need. many of the guys all know each other and they do there best to look out for each other but sometimes people are left out.

I know I am rambling on but I don’t know what to write about especially how I am feeling about losing a friend and family member. I personally feel lost, confused, hurt, tearful, tired, exhausted, muggy, confused and just all over the space.









Picnic for the Homeless

Wow what a day it was yesterday. I was a bit worried that no one would come but it was a success. All the food went. The guys on Piaroo’s Wish Helping the Homeless and Vulnerable in Reading did themselves proud. They donated deodorants, cakes, biscuits, water, sandwiches, fruit, Easter nests, men’s and ladies clothing, men’s shoes, socks, toothpaste, toothbrushes, sleeping bags and doggy bags.

I spent the last two nights sorting through the clothing and Michael came round Thursday evening to help with making up the toiletry bags. We made up 53 toiletry bags and 5 doggy bags. All 53 bags went with James, Becky and Sam taking any spare bags we had to those who were not there.

Each bag had an Easter Egg in which was provided by the Thames Valley Vultures and the Reading Rotary Club.

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The weather held out even though we felt the odd teardrop. It is going to take us time to get our numbers back out but we will get there.  It’s as if we have to start all over again whilst we wait for the council. I cant belive that they are taking so long. Why is it that they feel the need to take their time and with each passing week we are not out there helping the guys, the harder it is for the guys to retrust us.

The churches aremeven able to help because of several reasons. You wouldnt think it was so much hard work just to feed people.

This week has been a real buzz for me. I have missed going out and helping, constantly being on my mobile becyase of messages and notifications on Facebook, the worry of whether we would be able to make get all the donations. I do not know why I worry so much but I do and i am always proved wrong i didnt think people were going to come found but they need.

I’m pulling myself apart

I do not know how to describe what is going on inside my head. I know I am mentally unstable and I use every bit of energy to keep myself sane. I see people going about their days and enjoying life and smiling and being loved. All I can think is I want some of that. Normality is a luxury I do not have.

Life had been so hard and I know that the way I behaved as a young child to when I left home I was the devils child. I was not a child that people could easily love and at the time that’s what I needed to do to keep myself safe and be able to bear my childhood. It took my sanity and my health but one thing I never thought I would have is pure love. The love I feel for my son is immense.

My son had to grow up having to live with a mother with Bi Polar and Borderline Personality Disorder as well as my physical disabilities. For him he knows no different. Life has been easy for him not having to go through my kind of childhood. He has seen me high and seen me low and he just deals with it like breathing. It’s not fair on him to have to go through life with such pressure on his shoulders, not that he knows it. I feel so guilty and I wonder if he is the way he is because of me. Have I made my son worry about me, whether I am going to fall or burn myself or break some thing, trip over my own feet. Does he stay in because of me or does he stay in just for his Xbox. I think it is a bit of both.

Thinking of my non-existence of a  relationship that I had with my mum and how much I miss her and look at her picture, I wonder how she coped with me. Did I drive her to an early grave. Was I too much for her, did she really wish she had aborted me and wish I had died at birth or was all that said in anger and she did not mean it. So many unanswered questions which will never be answered.

I know I am self sabotaging everything I do except Piaroo’s Wish Helping the Homeless and Vulnerable in Reading. I have two good things in my life My son and Piaroo’s Wish. I Know I desperately want approval from someone who is dead. I can’t even give myself praise and love and don’t feel proud of myself so why would expect her to give me that.

I wonder about my shoulder and what the pain is trying to say to me. Which emotion am I not dealing with and there are so many to cope with. Am I sad, distraught, grieving, lonely, isolated, fear. That’s just to m=name a few. How can I ask so much of someone when I ask nothing for myself.

My head is so mashed up and I know I am in crisis when I am at home and the hours are ticking along and I am wired,  I long for the few hours of sleep I get ad await for the day and I am ok I guess but then not okay.

Do I deserve to have my entire life to be hard and stony or is there a person who can love me the way I should be loved but then again would I be too much for them and I know I have been single for 16 years now and I have platinum armour to protect the little girl in me that so desperately wants to be held and sway its okay everything will be fine,

I am so deluded at times. My head is thinking too fast for my fingers. I fell so alone and empty as if my body is an empty vessel and my insides are i a massive urn and all the nastiness of my life will be there on show for all to me.

I want to run and hide in the corner but no where is safe.









Yesterday a dear friend who I have known for many years wrote something quite innocent on my wall regarding Piaroo’s Wish Helping the Homeless and Vulnerable in Reading. It was very helpful which I established after a few hours.


Satty…. You need to start taking a register/tally from your drop off in town, especially…

Some folks are making valid points about certain people not being homeless, or no longer vulnerable…
Yeah, you get people who need help as a one off, or a couple of times until they get back on their feet, like I needed it once…
But there are folks who don’t need it, or who are taking more than they need instead of doing their own shopping… Sadly…
I’m ok now, I can forward help on now….
But you need to keep a tally, because some of those folks either, no longer need it and are taking advantage, or are receiving from a food-bank or a church regularly, or even their own families…
I will PM you….                     img_4458

Now for me this is what I read……………

Satty your not doing it right. You need to do this because people are talking behind your back saying that you are a easy target and people you are helping do not need what you are offering.                                                                                                                                                 People are saying that the people you are helping are taking the Michael out of you they are not homeless and they are already getting help from other places. They only need your help once and after that they do not need your help because they are fine and on their feet.  People are taking items from you instead of using the benefit money that they are receiving to buy their own shopping.

You helped me once and that was all I needed and that I am fine now and I didn’t take the Michael out of you. I only asked for what I needed once.

You need o do your job properly because you are doing it wrong. The people you help are not people that need your help. You are doing your job wrong. You need to do a tally because people are taking the Michael out of you. You need to do your job properly. Your wasting your time and everything you have done over the last fifteen months has been a joke and people are laughing behind your back because your useless and a waste of space.



Now as you can see what she wrote was nothing to what I actually read. This is what happens to me when I feel like I am being criticised or told I’m not doing a good job. At first when I read it I went into complete paranoia and on the defence so I asked politely for people on the group page to please read what my friend had written.                                    Funnily enough they all came back and said that what she had written was supportive genuine kind and loving. That she was making valid points and that I should take what she had written to be exactly what is was. If only my mind and brain would listen to everyone’s lovely kind words of wisdom.

I did apologise to my friend on several occasions saying that I had read what she had written completely wrong and that I was in the wrong and that I know she means well and is helpful. Also that she was very clever.

Now even though I totally believed what I had written and agreed that I was wrong and that she was right my head was saying something completely different. My paranoia had taken over and I knew I was in for a rough couple of days. My mental health issues were not going to let this lie. Deep within my mind all my old issues of being told I was wrong, useless, waste of air and space, obsolete and insignificant took hold.                                        So what I did was go onto some facebook events and played deal or no deal and also bingo and I won because I am so competitive which makes me feel like I am someone and that I am clever. Once all that was over I read what had been written in response to my post on the group page and also on my profile. As I reread what had written I genuinely agreed with what people were saying however my inner demons were still saying the usual rubbish and immobilising my happiness.                                                                                              At night my bi polar took its toll. I had the worst nightmare about being a bad mother NOW FOR ME THAT WAS A TERRIBLE THING FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH TO TAKE AHOLD OF.                                                                                                                                                                     My nightmare had only began. I was being hunted and also being verbally abused as a mother. The Asian community or my so called relatives were saying the most nastiest comments and the men were equally or more so aggressive and where mentally abusing me. I woke up around 5am which I was not happy about because I had only gone to sleep at 2am. I woke up with an panic attack and trembling. Its now 8.22am and I’m trembling within and my head is shaky. My impulse is to pretend everything is fine and that I am okay and that there is nothing wrong with me, only thing is I know better.                                I now have to put on a mask and pretend all is okay that I have no inner turmoil, that I am totally fine, that I’m okay however its not true.


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I’m a prize PLUM

I have been really organised this weekend.
Cleaned my kitchen.
Got the hallway shelving sorted
Got washing done
Made a delicious Ginger and Lemon Chicken roast dinner.
Got everything ready for Wednesday
Giant bag of mens shoes sorted
Bags of hats gloves hats and socks sorted
Hot drinks bag sorted
Mens coats sorted
Sleeping bags sorted
Dog food sorted
3 bags of clothes for Michael to collect to take to a charity shop or the Salvation Army.
Made myself a cuppa and thought time to watch Total Divas but I could not find the remote control.                                                                                                                                                             GGGRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
I had to go through every bag and I hunted high and low. Rummaged in the kitchen, in the fridge then the freezer. I asked Ethan to help me and he couldn’t find it either. Then I had the worst thought ever, what if it is in the washing machine. Anyway after over an hour and a half looking for it I was about to cry as I took the big shopping out and move it out the way when……………… guess what…………………YES………….You guessed it. There it was lying on top of the crisps.
That will teach me to organise the house.


MYTHS (just a few)

1 People who talk about suicide are not serious about it and wont go through it.           People who kill themselves often talk about suicide. They have talked about their life being worthless and not being here.

2 Once someone has tried to commit suicide they rarely try again.                                     People who have tried to end their lives before are significantly more likely to eventually die by suicide than the rest of the population.

3 Talking about suicide makes people think about it and carry it out.                                Suicide is a taboo topic to chat about. People who are suicidal don’t like to worry people about their feelings. Helping people talk about suicide helps them to think about other ways to cope and talk.

4 Suicides mainly happen in the winter.                                                                                         There is a rise in suicidal deaths in the spring.

This has been a very tough few days. Wednesdays group just made me feel worse knowing that I am at high risk with all the facts and figures being spread on the wall. I do believe the this topic does need more work and research and funding. Their is a whole new world out there and each year life gets harder and harder. I keep thinking to myself maybe tomorrow I will be normal and then the next night I say to myself maybe tomorrow life will get easier, always hoping. Not every night but most nights I hope and pray.

One good thing about research is that men of a certain age are getting help and their is support out their for them. Also with new research comes new reports which go out to their various locations and you hope that the receiver will read them and say I need to do something to help. I know I am naïve and I think that people think like me and want to make this world a better place and protect the children, the elderly and the vulnerable. Don’t get me wrong I didn’t always think this way however I have always wanted to better the community but I was not this passionate. As I have got older even though my inner thoughts may have shifted a little the need to help people and keep them alive is a thirst that is all consuming and when I cant help it makes me upset and annoyed.

Anyway back to the topic SUICIDE I have attempted to take my life from an early age. I still remember my first time. I waited for no one to be in the Kitchen and I got the stool and climbed to get to the shelf and I took the bottle of aspirin, in their white bottle and I thought I want to die and how much I hated how I was and my life. This will most probably come as a shock to my sisters. I too the bottle of aspirin one at a time at first with water and then a handful and just waited to die. I am not sure how much time later but I woke up and threw up then ran downstairs and puked up in the kitchen sink to my mums horror, as she was cooking. Anyway to cut it short I got the biggest telling off. Both my mum and dad shouting at me reminding me how stupid I was. I was 7 when I tried the first time and the 7th time I was 25. Anyway by the time I realised I was in Fairmile because I was a danger to myself I also realised I was still alive.

That was tough being locked in a room and having to be good to get to go out of my room then the ward and then off site. I felt a peace surround me but it was not real it was the meds they were giving me. Fairmile helped me realised that I should stop as God doesn’t want me dead yet otherwise I would of been with him. So I decided no more attempts and I needed therapy again but intense as I couldn’t live like this anymore. Bombarded with memories, thoughts, voices, smells and fear. It has not been an easy journey but anything worth having does not come easy. Life is not easy, being a single mum is not easy. Being Kinder is not easy, being in this body is not easy and it goes on and on.

Whilst I was having my 1st bout of intensive psychotherapy at Fairmile I made the choice to have 18 months 9-3.30pm five days a week. Boy oh boy that was a rough ride and the demons that appeared and I had to cope with the support of the other members called support. That was not easy. It took me months to ask for support but it took me weeks to want to give support. Whilst there I realised and learned about the aftermath of suicide. The destruction it leaves behind. The shattered pieces of those left behind to struggle to understand and cope with their loved ones suicide. That’s when I decided I would never try again for real and I haven’t which is an achievement. The achievement is having the thoughts of wanting to die and laughing in its face, well more like crying myself to sleep sometimes and at other times, working through the thoughts and turning those demon words into positive ones.  I don’t think people really know what is going on in loved ones heads and the demon thoughts they have. Always fighting to live and slaying memories and the demons within.

People never know what is really going on with me and sometimes I do not know what is going on with me, so how can I expect others to know how to help me when I am trying to figure out which therapeutic technique to use which will keep me going. The nights are the worst for me and not sleeping is not good either. The inner fights wounding my soul and I know I have God but why do I still struggle with my life and the pain I had to endure.

I have a wonderful son and he is my world but the truth is sometimes its hard to actually feel. Deep within the core of my being to think he loves me and wants me around. He is at an age where the thought of him needing me feels empty. But I know I would never want him to deal with the aftermath of my suicide. He keeps me alive and without him I know I would be dead in the gutter a long time ago. I spent a lot of my life on a destructive path of hatred for myself and how absolutely evil I was and on the flip side helping fundraise for some cause or another

Who I am now is because of the journey I had to walk on my own not knowing God was with me at my darkest hours and I had a lot of them in my life, too many to count and the tears still have not stopping flowing. Some tears of pain, some of hurt, some of loneliness, some of joy, some for the boy who stands before me and is truly a gift from God. I cry now for many reasons and I fight now to stay alive for my son. God gave me Ethan to live and through the him I have a love so rare that I do not understand parents that don’t love their children and hurt them in the ways that evil has a hold on them.

Life is so important and a gift and it is also a stoney road to walk alone so I grab at anything I can and doing good helps, but the feeling of helping doesn’t last and then I feel the urge to help again and again.